


From Winter to Summer and Winter Again IV

by michael_kelso72



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Death, F/M, Family, House Bolton, House Stark, Riverrun, Robb Stark is King in the North, War, Winterfell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:35:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 17,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22314151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michael_kelso72/pseuds/michael_kelso72
Summary: The Tale of Robb Stark's doting wife. All characters and settings but my OC belong to George RR Martin.
Relationships: Robb Stark/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 9





	1. Chapter 1

Ramsay Snow tightened the linen bag over his victim's face and poured water over it. He laughed as his victim thrashed against the restraints on his X shaped cross. The bag dipped as the man desperately searched for air. Ramsay lifted the bag, throwing it to the filthy floor before meeting the desperate gaze of Theon Greyjoy. 

"Good Morning!" He sang before moving to a nearby table. He searched cautiously for a blade, his thinnest. His sister inherited the best knife, he was left with the too thick ones. They always ripped the skin. 

"Where am I? Who are you? What do you want?" The Kraken questioned. Ramsay eagerly ignored him, he lifted his dagger and walked to him. 

He roughly grabbed his hand, "Don't recognize me?" The tip of his blade imbedded into Theon's index finger, Ramsay smiled as the skin tore. "I did change my appearance since our last meeting but not too drastically." He removed the knife as Theon began to scream in pain. "Let's play a game. If you guess who I am I won't take this finger!" Ramsay turned his victim's face to his smiling eagerly. 

Theon nodded, "You're no one." His breathing was ragged as he proudly looked back to his torturer. "You're an errand boy for a Northern house. Your Lord asked you to do this." 

"You really are stupid." He laughed as his blade hit the wood, following the sounds of crunching bones and screams. "My sister's letters were right." 

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Theon's blue eyes looked to his hand that now dripped with blood. 

Ramsay removed his knife from the wooden cross, taking with it the severed top of the finger. He placed the digit in his pocket. "My sister is the Queen in the North and Trident. She asked." Without any warning, his blade hit Theon's pinky finger. The Kraken's memory finally recognizing the bastard of the Dreadfort.


	2. Chapter 2

Riverrun was a beautiful castle. Its history-rich walls welcomed the King and Queen in the North as its new residents, offering itself as a place of command. House Tully welcomed the Northern monarch's, deeming King Robb as a true Tully. He shared their looks and was born in their castle, he was welcomed as the King of the North and Trident. The Northerners had never been so blessed.

The need to stay at Riverrun was to mourn the loss of Lord Hoster Tully, the King hid beside his wife as he held in his giggles at the funeral. His uncle's attempts at lighting the funeral boat with an arrow humored him so.

The Northern Lord's begged their King not to stay, but as a Tully, the King needed to attend his grandfather's funeral. Lord Roose Bolton, his father through marriage, scoffed at the idea of joining his family and rode swiftly for Herranhal. His daughter yelled at him before his departure, of course. The Queen, Rhaenyra, Robb's lovely wife. She had been quiet for days, the pain of another death weakening her. She spoke a few words, only keeping conversations with their sons. It pained him to see her so hurt.

He was reminded of their time further South, one of their many visits to the Crag. It was a short trip to officially receive House Westerling's surrender, it was the first time they had been properly together since the war started. No children, no men outside a tent, no dire wolf, just them. It was beautiful, until dawn when a raven from the Dreadfort came. Rhaenyra was silent as she handed the letter to him and remained silent as he cried. She simply held him as he wailed against her. His brothers were dead. Their death continued to pain her, his grandfather's death reminded her of the pain and her lack of mourning.

She needed to be alone, so he allowed her to disappear from the funeral feast.

Rhaenyra Stark's calmness came with solitude and silence. She pushed the heavy doors to her chamber's and leaned against them. She tightly held the fish-shaped handle, praying they would stay closed. She pressed a hand to her stomach, attempting to ease her breathing. Rhaenyra was exhausted, she needed to rest. The sight of the fire burning before a chair welcomed her. She hurriedly walked to the seat, pushing it closer to the flames. She brought her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them.

Rhaenyra was uncomfortably close to the flames that danced ever so smoothly in the fireplace. Her violet eyes flickered over the licks, her teeth bit at her nails. A bad habit, she knew, but the stress of the war was overwhelming. Her nails had to suffer with her. 

She brushed her hand against her dark dress and inched closer in her seat. The heat of the flames brushed against her cheeks in a beckoning motion, like they always did. Rhaenyra lifted her hand from her side and let her fingertips graze the whisps of fire. She felt the warm wind tickle her fingers as she let her palm submerge under to feel the sensation.

Rhaenyra retracted her hand quickly at the sound of the chamber door opening. She hid her singed sleeve against her side, not wanting to turn to greet her husband. Robb's footsteps were heavy, the weight of his crown weighing him down. She could hear him remove the new Winter crown and toss it on their bed. His steps returned as he made his way toward her.

Rhaenyra's eyes did not meet his as he sat awkwardly against the arm of her chair. From the corner of her eye, she saw his face turn in disgust, clearly from the smell of burnt fabric. She hid her arm deeper against her side.

Robb knew she needed silence, the fear of mourning becoming worse. But still, she refused. He said nothing as he took her own crown from her head and began to twist it between his fingers. Rhaenyra did not glance over.

She needed to be strong for her family, she needed to be the strong Northern Queen. But death is disgustingly hard to overcome. She would like to believe they lived, but the corpses her brother wrote of brought a horrid feeling into her heart. 

Bran and Rickon were the security the North needed, Theon Greyjoy took that away. He took the boys she watched grow and burnt them to a crisp. Theon, the boy her husband called brother and the man she trusted with the lives of her children had betrayed them in the worst way. The sack of Winterfell would have been handled in an honorable manner. But the wolf's blood being spilled needed blood in retribution. She prayed to the gods he would suffer a slow death. Her husband's sympathy toward's him hopefully faded.

Robb's arm wrapped around her shoulders. He said nothing but kissed her head. Rhaenyra turned to look at him, pressing her hand to his cheek. She did not want to cry. She looked up trying not to let her tears fall. Her attempts were unsuccessful. She hated herself as her face twisted, her heart grew heavy with each sob. Robb brought her to him as she continued to cry. She felt her tears stain the dark furs and leathers he wore, her breaths heaved with each wail.

"He will suffer. I will make sure of it." Robb stood silent as he caressed her hair. She knew her word's hurt him, she spoke illy against the man he once thought kin. Rhaenyra sought revenge, the need for it grows with each loud cry. "My brother will send him to us bits by bits," Robb said nothing.


	3. Chapter 3

Rhaenyra moved past her husband to sit against the headboard of their bed. She brought her knees to her chest as her head rested against the detailed, wooden headboard. The back of her hand reached behind to involuntarily trace the water like etching of it. Her violet eyes focused on the crown that remained at the foot of the bed. 

It was a Northern crown, ancient runes of the first men engraved in its circlet. Rhaenyra thought it beautiful, with its circle of nine iron spikes that reminded her of the sword Robb had come accustomed to carrying. It was better than her crown. 

Her vanity hated the dainty tiara the blacksmith had crafted. It sat uneasily atop her head and would slide off if she made abrupt movements. She did love the stones that were encrusted in it, the rubies and sunstones. The band of a crown did not suit her well despite its attempts. 

Rhaenyra's eyes shifted to Robb who sat beside his bronze crown, he lifted it and placed it on his head. She smiled slightly before reaching over to grab her own from his hands. She set it atop her nightstand and sat in her previous position, admiring the King in the North. 

"It flattens your hair," she spoke softly. Robb turned, his eyes curiously watching her. "You always look funny when you remove it." He smiled, lifting it from his head causing her to laugh lightly. His hair would always indent where the crown once sat. 

Robb rose from the bed, taking his crown to its box that sat across the room. Rhaenyra adverted her gaze again, choosing to look over the fire that still lit the room. She swallowed, sitting straighter against the headboard. "Here," Robb handed her a chalice of wine. The sweet fruits disgusted her as she took it. She pressed her hand to her stomach and watched as her husband sat in his previous seat. "Have you talked to my mother?" 

"No." She lied. 

"How is she?" Rhaenyra placed the wine besides her crown, she moved closer to him. 

"She hates being locked up in one room. She hates the guards. I think she is even starting to hate the visits I take with our sons." She placed a hand on his shoulder, "She is your mother."

"She's a traitor." Robb glared toward her, "She has weakened our morale by releasing him." 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, "You can go and speak to her. Your grandfather, her father has died, your brothers." She grew silent her eyes moving from him to the ground. "Robb, we are all we have. Your mother told me that the pack thrives and the lone wolf dies, please see her." 

"For you." Rhaenyra smiled and rested her chin against his shoulder. She brought her hand to his, intertwining their fingers. "Other than," his voice faded, refusing to speak of his brother's' deaths. "What stress harms you?"

"The Freys."

"Why?" Robb asked, clearly confused. 

"They left because of me."

"No love, it was bound to happen. Their loyalty was always questionable." 

Rhaenyra leaned away from him. "You know what he did." 

Robb nodded, "That is why he had your dagger in his eye." 

Rhaenyra fell to the bed, resting her hand against her stomach. She closed her eyes as she attempted to forget the moment she stuck her blade in Olyvar Frey's eye. He found her alone at the Crag weeks ago, cornered her in her chambers. He spoke illy of his King and yelled about her lack of regality and feminity. She proceeded to blind the Frey out of annoyance. Robb now has one of the Westerling boys as a squire. 

"I fear we may lose the war because of me. They label me as a Frey hater, perhaps I am." 

"Don't say that. I still have hope my Aunt Lysa will join our fight." He laid beside her, his blue eyes meeting hers. "We did lose our Frey support but we still fight strong. I assure you." 

Rhaenyra pursed her lips, "So many men gone. As if it were magic. All because we revoked the engagement between our families." 

"We don't need the bridge, what is the point of it. I rather our children choose their wives." She nodded in agreement, pushing her self to gaze down at him. 

"Robb," he turned. "Are we going to leave Riverrun? I find the stability of a roof comforting." 

He shook his head, "No. I have no plans to, our children need to be raised in a home not a war tent." 

Her hand rested against his cheek as she smiled at him. "I love you."

"I love you."

She gently kissed him, smiling slightly at his willingness. His hand reached to the back of her neck, falling lower to the strings that tied her dress. Rhaenyra pulled away to press her legs on either side of his waist. Robb's lips found her neck, she closed her eyes and brought a hand to his hair. His hands continued to fidget with the strings on her dress. She laughed and pushed his head away from her, she stood from the bed and continued to laugh at his shocked expression. 

"Why?"

"You took too long." She smirked and pulled the strings with ease. Rhaenyra held her dress close to her body, not wanting it to fall. "I have something to share." 

"News? Tell me." Robb smiled brightly, his eyes brightened as he watched her eagerly. 

"I'm with child." The smile vanished. Rhaenyra let the dress fall, her shift showing the slight curve her stomach began to have. 

"A child?" His eyes went to the floor, focusing on the dark dress that pooled around her legs. "You're certain?" 

"Yes, another." She sat beside him, she watched his shocked expression in fear. "You're upset." 

Robb turned abruptly, "Upset? How could I be upset with you? You're my queen." His hand went to her face, bringing her lips to his. Rhaenyra grabbed his free hand to press it to her barley rounded belly. 

"Another prince for the North." 

Robb shook his head, "A princess, or both?" He pressed his forehead against hers as his fingers spread across her abdomen. 

"Being a King has made you greedy. Did you know that?"


	4. Chapter 4

Rhaenyra tossed a berry into her mouth as she read over her father's letter. His rashness was welcomed as he summarized the capture of Jaime Lannister. She tossed the parchment onto the end table beside her bowl of berries. She tightened the robe around her body and took the bowl in her hand.

Slowly, Rhaenyra walked to the large window that stretched across her chambers. She leaned against the glass, her fingers gently pulled the sheer curtain away to see the green hills that surrounded Riverrun. The sky was bright, the clouds hiding the sun to cast a grey shadow over the lands. She smiled at the cool tones of the land and popped another fruit into her mouth. The clouds' darkness was a sign it would rain, which she always welcomed from the comfort of a castle. She shuttered at the memory of sleeping in tents while storms would rage on their camp.

Rhaenrya pushed the curtain back and turned to face the rest of her room. Robb laid in the middle of their bed, furs and blankets pulled past his shoulders. She giggled and walked to the bed, sitting at its edge close to his feet. She placed her now emptied bowl on the floor and gripped his ankle through the layers of sheets. He made no movements.

"Robb." Nothing. "Robb." She sung his name as she pushed his foot around. "Robb Stark it is time to wake up." He mumbled into his pillow before tossing it over his head. "Look at you, the Young Wolf refusing to leave the bed." Rhaenyra rose from the bed, intentionally pushing where she knew his ass was.

There was a brisk knock against the door, she rolled her eyes as Robb groaned at the noise. Rhaenyra tightened her robe and walked to the door. She pulled the fish-shaped handle, her son ran past her while Bella nodded respectfully to her. "Your grace." The maid held Henry tightly, Rhaenyra quickly took him. "The princes are fed and dressed. Lady Catelyn is expecting a visit from the King and you later this evening. Your brother has also sent word of the traitor." Rhaenyra adjusted Henry in her arms, waiting for her to continue. Bella handed her the scroll, she immediately placed it into her robe's pocket. "Do you need anything else, your grace?"

Rhaenyra shook her head, focusing on the sound of her son speaking to his father. "That is all. Thank you, Bella." She closed the door as Bella began to walk away.

Domeric bounced on the bed, his father fully awake. Rhaenyra smiled and sat on the ground before the foot of the bed, letting Henry stand beside her. She held his hands as he attempted to waddle around her.

"Mummy!" Domeric screamed. He bounced onto his bottom, his legs dangled off the bed. "May I spend the day with Uncle Edmure? He said he would show me the horses." She looked up to him from her seat, his blue eyes widened in hopefulness. "Please?"

"Ask your father."

"He said to ask you." Robb sat up, bringing their son to his chest. He pressed his face against Domeric's neck, comically blowing against it. Domeric squealed loudly as he attempted to push his father's face away.

Rhaenyra watched from her spot on the floor, bringing Henry closer to her chest. She admired their shared features, the blue eyes, and unruly hair. They even shared a similar mischievous gleam in their eyes. She then turned to Henry, the soon to be one-year-old whose features began to stray from his father and brother. His eyes shifted from traditional Tully blue to the Stark grey, his red hair began to darken into an ashy brown. Rhaenyra wondered what her next child would look like, she prayed it strayed from her Bolton side.

"Did he?" She raised an arched brow, "Fine. Only for a short bit, Bella will call for you and then we will visit your-" She was interrupted by a loud bang against the door, her grip on Henry tightened. Another loud bang.

Robb stood from the bed, he wrapped a loose fur around his waist as he walked to the door. Another bang rattled it. Domeric fell to the floor and nestled into Rhaenyra's side.

"Your grace!" He opened the door, the man who rattled the door spoke in hushed tones to Robb. Rhaenyra held her children close.

Robb closed the door, saying nothing to the man. "Rhaenyra take the boys to Bella." He searched through the dresser for clothing. Rhaenyra pulled her sons out of the room, ignoring Domeric's questions and complaints about not seeing his Uncle Edmure. She knocked hurriedly on her maid's door.

"Your grace? What's happened? I heard shouts and knocks." Bella's blue eyes held concern as she took Henry from his mother's arms. Domeric still held onto her robe, refusing to leave until he received an answer to his questions.

Rhaenyra glanced down to her son, "I don't know. Truly. Please keep with Domeric's writing lessons. I will return as soon as I can." She knelt down to kiss her son's head and gently pushed him toward Bella. She then kissed Henry's cheek, smiling lightly before rushing down the hall to her quarters.

Robb was half-dressed when she entered the room, he was tightening his sword belt against his waist when she pushed the door. "The Karstarks have committed treason."His voice was hard as he spoke. Rhaenyra stood silent as she began to dress, hastily throwing on a gown and followed him out the room. She did not wear shoes, finding the castle to be safe enough not to need any.

They walked to the study on the lower floor. Robb walked feet ahead, Rhaenyra followed. He held the door open to the silent room. Brynden Tully stoically leaned against the desk at the end of the room. His gaze adverted from the two.

Rhaenyra's eyes fell to the two bodies that laid in the center of the study. The young boys were Kevan Lannister's sons, both had wounds in their chests. The fresh blood-drenched their tunics, stilling in a pool around their wounds. Her heart broke. They were boys, boys. Bran's age, maybe younger. She closed her eyes, thinking of her young brothers-in-laws. She fell to the floor, her hands gently grazed their blonde heads.

Her violet eyes brimmed with tears as she turned to Robb, he looked to his uncle who continued to lean against the desk. "Bring them in." The Blackfish nodded, walking around the mourning Queen to allow the traitors in.

Lord Karstark and his men were lead, their arms bound behind their backs. Rhaenyra refused to look up toward them.

" Is that all of them? It took five of you to murder two unarmed squires?" Robb's voice was harsh, his hand rested against his sword.

Lord Karstark seemed proud of his actions. He glared toward his Queen and the boys she cried over. "Not murder, your Grace. Vengeance."

"Vengeance? Those boys didn't kill your sons. I saw Harrion die on the battlefield and Torrhen-" Robb was interrupted quickly by Lord Karstark.

"Was strangled by the Kingslayer. They were his kin."

Rhaenyra closed her eyes as Robb began to scream, "They were boys! Look at them." He gestured to the bodies that laid still. "Lord Karstark I label you a traitor for going against your King's word."

"It's treason to free your enemies. In war, you kill your enemies. Did your father not teach you that, boy?" Rhaenyra rose from her spot on the floor, she turned to Robb and pushed his hand away from his sword. She drew it and held it close to Lord Karstark's neck.

"Rhaenyra," Robb spoke softly, she dropped her arm. She extended it back, letting him take the weapon. Her eyes never left Lord Karstark's.

" Aye. Leave me to the king. He wants to give me a scolding before he sets me free. That's how he deals with treason. Our King in the North. Or should I call him the King Who Lost the North?"

Rhaenyra stood beside her husband, "Escort Lord Karstark to the dungeon. Hang the rest." Her voice was monotone as she spoke. Robb nodded to the Blackfish who began to push the now prisoners out the door along with Edmure, who stood patiently outside the door.

Edmure walked toward Robb, desperation and worry in his face. "Word of this can't leave Riverrun. They were Tywin Lannister's nephews. The Lannisters pay their debts. They never stop talking about it."

Robb wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders. "Would you make me a liar as well as a murderer?" Rhaenyra nestled into his side, wrapping her arms around his waist in comfort.

"It wouldn't be lying. We will bury them and remain silent until the war is done." Edmure's comments alluded pure ignorance.

" I'm not fighting for justice if I don't serve justice to murderers in my ranks, no matter how highborn. He has to die."

Rhaenyra's eyes shifted back to the corpses that remained centered in the room. "The Karstarks will leave us if we kill their lord." She spoke softly and pressed her face into her husband's chest. "They were no older than Bran. Now they're dead."

Robb hugged her tightly, "And boys will keep dying until this war is over."


	5. Chapter 5

Rhaenyra stood beside Catelyn under a blue, sodden canopy. Rain poured throughout the Riverlands as Tully guards lead Lord Karstark to his death. The two who held his arms dropped him to his knees, pushing him on his knees. Rhaenyra watched her husband speak silently to him, his eyes dark in anger. He gripped his longsword tightly, the point of the blade dug into the mud. 

Catelyn nervously glanced at Rhaenyra as Robb began to speak loudly for the witnesses. "Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold, here in sight of gods and men, I sentence you to die. Would you speak a final word?" 

"Kill me and be cursed. You are no king of mine." Lord Karstark lowered himself onto the bloodied tree stump, lengthening his neck for impact. Rhaenyra winced as Robb's sword struck through his neck. Her eyes followed the decapitated head as it rolled away from the stump and into the muddy ground. Robb handed his sword toward his Westerling squire and walked toward the castle, leaving Rhaenyra and his mother confused. The bannermen present spoke amongst themselves clearly displeased at the evident loss of another great house. 

Rhaenyra sighed, pulling her hood over her head and following Robb into the rain. She hastily walked, her boots sticking into the mud with each step. She exited the small courtyard to the stone paths that lead to the castle. Robb was feet away, his cloak drenched from the heavy waters that poured down. From her distance, Rhaenyra noticed the heaviness of his shoulders and the unease of his person. "Robb!" She screamed, lifting her drenched skirt and coat. "Robb!" He continued to walk paying no mind to her call. 

Rhaenyra ran forward, praying she would not slip on the smooth stones. She reached his pace as they neared the entrance of the castle. As they began to step past the entrance, she placed a loving hand on his shoulder. Robb flinched at her touch, turning abruptly. "Leave me." 

She stopped following him, watching as he walked further into the halls of Riverrun. Rhaenyra sighed, calmly closing her eyes in attempts to soothe herself. She began to walk to her quarters in hopes of finding a distraction with her children. 

Bella brought the princes to her within moments. Domeric immediately began speaking of his boring lessons Bella attempted to teach him. He sat on the bed, kicking his legs over its edge as Rhaenyra sat in front of the fire with Henry. She curiously watched as his grey eyes wondered over the flames. He held onto her shoulder as he wobbled around as he attempted to walk. 

Henry continued to toddle around the room as best as he could, holding onto furniture r for assistance. Rhaneyra remained by the fire as she watched him. He was a curious sight, independent for such a young child. 

"Mummy?" She hummed in response. "Can you tell me a story?" 

Rhaenyra tilted her head, watching as Domeric smiled. "A story? You know many stories."

"Bella tells me stories. Your's are better." He hopped off the bed to walk toward her. Henry sat against the bed, he began pulling the pillows from his seat by their cases. Domeric pointed before sitting in front of his mother. 

"Well, what do you want to hear?"

Domeric looked to the fire, his blue eyes easily reflecting the orange of the flames. "Tell me about my grandfather." 

"Your father's father?" Rhaenyra received a small nod, she opened her arms and Domeric fell against her. She smiled at the warmth he emanated. Her mind raced as she tried to remember comforting stories of her late father in law. She had spent less and less amount of times with him as the years progressed, which she regretted. Rhaenyra brought her lips to her son's head as a thought came to her. "I will tell you a story my father told me. This is how I knew your grandfather. The honorable Ned Stark, the rebel, the warrior." She recollected the tale of the Tower of Joy. Describing the fight between loyal Targaryen King's Guards and usurper rebels. Her heart softened as Domeric's eyes brightened with each mention of his grandfather. "With one single thrust to the neck, Lord Eddard Stark took down Ser Arthur Dayne. The Sword of the Morning." 

Domeric silently stood, rubbing his eyes. "I'm tired now." Rhaenyra shook her head, turning to Henry who now tore books from the bookshelf. She stood and went to search through the dresser for Robb's nightshirts. 

"Come here," she beckoned for her son. "You'll sleep in here tonight." She helped him undress and laughed along with him as his head emerged from the top of the shirt. 

Domeric excitedly bounced onto the bed, pulling the blankets down for himself, he now hid comfortably under the layers of furs and sheets. Rhaenyra laughed as she heard his light breathing, knowing he had fallen asleep in the large bed. 

She calmly picked up Henry, he gave a sound of discontent as she settled him into her arms. Rhaenyra stood over the bed to move the blankets away from Domeric. He lazily opened his eyes and burrowed himself further into the mattress. 

"I'll be back." He nodded and hide his face against the bed. "Alright. I love you." His blue eyes closed again as her voice fade. 

Rhaenyra left the room, Henry leaning against her shoulder. It was quiet and dark, the only numbing sound coming from the rain that began to fade. Her distractions had faded, even with her son in her arms. She thought of the boys who died that day for unjust reasons. 

Rhaenyra sighed as Henry began to tug at her hair. His presence began to invoke a terrible fear in her. Her mind drifting into darkness, creating the worst thoughts as she wondered what would happen if the Lannisters took him and his brother. Rhaenyra's stomach would drop at the thought, A Lannister always pays his debts. 

She descended the stairs to the lower level, quickly turning into the same study from hours before. Rhaenyra knew he was in there, she had left him alone for hours but now they needed to be together. To deal with the turmoil together. She pushed the door open without hesitation. 

Robb stood over the desk that displayed Westeros, his eyes traced over the wooden figures of each house. In his hand was the sun of the Karstarks. 

"You were right." He said, not bothering to look toward her. He looked harshly toward the piece in anger, throwing it across the room out of anger. 

Henry gave a startled shriek as the wood crashed to the floor. Rhaenyra scolded her husband as she attempted to soothe the now screaming child, "Gods Robb! You're letting the Lannisters win by acting out in fury." She bounced her son against her hip, moving side to side as she went. 

"The Karstarks are gone. Almost half our forces. Tywin Lannister knows what he needs to do to make us unravel. Nothing. Only wait."

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, "You are giving him satisfaction by acting out of sorts." Henry's face brightened in color as her voice rose. 

"What shall I do then? Attack King's Landing? There's nothing he'd like better. He'd crush us in a day." Robb's eyes flickered to the screaming child in her arms, he walked closer. 

Henry's cries began to soften, their loudness was still persistent. "We may not need to. We can just go home. Give up the South, send a spy to get Sansa back and have my father's men search for Arya. Please, Robb." 

"We've been fighting for nearly two years. Why give up now?" His eyes softened as he reached for Henry, "He was just a babe when the war started and look at him now." Rhaenyra smiled as Henry leaned on his father's shoulder, his cries fading into heavy breathes. "Once our bannermen are home again, sitting by the fire, surrounded by their families, warm and safe, they'll never ride south again. When I gathered my lords together, we had a purpose, a mission. Now we're like a band of bickering children." 

Rhaenyra shifted, "We need a new purpose then." She walked passed the two to examine the large map of the realm. She cocked her head as her fingers traced over from Riverrun to Casterly Rock. "We can't force them to meet us in the field and I can't attack them where they're strongest, but I can attack them where they're not." 

Robb walked toward her, "What?"

"No Lannister's are protecting their ancestral seat." His eyes brightened as she spoke. Robb leaned over the desk to sloppily kiss here. 

"You're brilliant you know that." Henry pushed his face into his father's neck, tired of their excitement immediately. 

"I try. We need men." 

"We need men to replace the Karstarks who marched home. There is only one person in this kingdom with that kind of army who hasn't already sided with the Lannisters. 

"Robb if you say Walder Frey I'm leaving you and moving to Essos." He said nothing as he moved the discarded Twins figure beside the Northern army. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes and sat in the chair that headed the desk, examining the other houses to find a more suitable way of attack.


	6. Chapter 6

Rhaenyra's fingers spread against her stomach resting the urge to itch her stretching skin. She pushed her furs lower to examine its roundness. She lifted her nightdress slowly, smiling slightly. Her babe was growing, a blessing. 

She sat up, leaning against the carved headboard. Her violet eyes gazed across the room, focusing on the sun that peeked through the curtains. Rhaenyra sighed as she gently pressed her head back into the wood of the headboard. She turned slightly to see Grey Wind nestled on the stone floor beside her. The dire wolf stretched comfortably as if noticing her attention. He did not share the anxiousness she had. Rhaenyra's heart quickened as she began to dread the start of the day.

The Stark army had resided in Riverrun for nearly three months, longer than any expected. Few had left, following their King on a brief journey to the Vale. Robb had left a month ago. Rhaenyra was desperate to see him and their children. It was her suggestion to negotiate with his aunt. Her persistence caused him to leave with their sons, they were to be his security in his moderation. She hated herself for the suggestion. Robb's overly vague letters about the negative outcomes made her even most upset.

Rhaenyra pulled the furs back as a loud knock erupted through the room. She sighed as Bella's voice followed. The maid entered, quickly disrupting her morning by placing breakfast on the bed and rushing to open the curtains. "Good morning your grace." Her voice was overly enthusiastic, Rhaenyra despised it. "How are you feeling?"

"Like a bloated goat. Or as if I am-"

"The size of a pregnant giant. Yes, Lady Stark told me. She also said to deny it." Her blue eyes fell to Rhaenyra's belly, "But I cannot lie."

Rhaenyra gasped, throwing a pillow in her direction. "You're awful." She laughed as Bella began to tidy up the room. "I enjoy your honesty."

The maid smiled, offering her a full cup of tea. Rhaenyra frowned for she found the drink to constantly taste of hot water having no flavor to its taste. Grey Wind growled lowly as Bella inched closer, Rhaenyra giggled watching her face whiten. "You are not only my queen but my friend." She nodded her head respectfully before turning to address the sizzling fireplace. The fire within simmered away over the night. "Your brother and his grace have sent word of their endeavors."

Rhaenyra stood, quickly placing her teacup on the discarded tray of food. She hopped over Grey Wind to the desk in the furthest corner of the room. "Why did you not tell me? That should have been the first words that feel from your mouth." She pushed the excessive letters in search of the still scrolled notes. Her eyes landed on the grey wax that clasped her husband's letter. "Who has read it?"

Bella picked at the waking fire with a poker, not turning to her queen. "Lady Stark and the Blackfish." Rhaenyra nodded before pushing the seal away.

Robb described the state of his aunt, she was a tragic widow who fawned over her sickly child. Her state was a prompt refusal to join their cause, which was expected. But Robb's hope was further diminished as she provided one Knight of the Vale. He then went on to the writing of the men he collected on their journey back to Riverrun, nine hundred strong. Not enough to take the Rock. Rhaenyra smiled as Robb lovingly wrote of their sons, Domeric enjoying the attention of the bannermen and Henry seeming to enjoy his first name day celebration. Her heart broke for not being there.

She dropped the letter onto the desk. Her violet eyes closed as she gripped its edges. Rhaenyra then searched for her brother's scroll, she smirked. It was easy to find the red flayed man that sealed the note tightly. She slides it off to slowly read her brother's scratchy writing.

Ramsay summarized his torture of Theon Greyjoy, the Iron Island heir was down three fingers and a few toes. She smiled proudly, continuing down over the other acts he had performed on the North's enemy. Her eyes widened as Ramsay began to describe his most recent act of torment. Rhaenyra read it over and over, thinking it not true. She rose a had to her lips as her brother then wrote how he threatened the Iron Born with his treatment of their heir.

Rhaenyra stood silent as Bella began to ready her for the day. She made no comment as her maid twisted her hair into a Southern-style. Bella insisted her Queen should honor Southern traditions, Rhaenyra ignored her justification.

"Stop moving!" Bella whined as she attempted to add another pin into Rhaenyra's hair.

Rhaenyra continued to jerk her head, "You dare scream at your queen? I am offended!" She placed a hand to her cheek before bursting into a fit of laughter. Her arm reached behind, searching for her crown. Bella gently pushed her forward, shoving the headpiece into her hands. Rhaenyra scowled playfully and started to twist the crown in her hands. Her fingers bumped against the gemstones in attempts to turn the focus from the pulls against her scalp.

Bella continued to twist and yank Rhaenyra's dark hair. She occasionally would laugh with every wince. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes with each giggle. She placed her crown on the bed beside her as Bella placed more pins into her hair. Her eyes turned to Grey Wind who curiously watched, seeming to join in Bella's humor.

The maid gestured toward the crown, "May I?" Rhaenyra lifted it gently. Bella pulled it from her grasp, standing before her to place it properly against her head. "You look like a proper Southern beauty!" Rhaenyra stood from the bed, walking to the dresser to look into the looking glass above it.

She was right, a Southern woman looked back. Rhaenyra rested her hands against her abdomen to ease her breathing. Her thoughts caused her heart to race, she closed her eyes as she moved to lean against the furniture. "You will never do my hair like this again."

"Your grace," Bella began to interrupt. Rhaenyra's violet eyes burned back.

"Cersei Lannister wears her hair like this." Bella's shoulders fell in defeat as Rhaenyra began to pull the pins out of her hair. "I'm sorry."


	7. Chapter 7

Rhaenyra lifted her skirts as she quickly walked the Lord's study with Grey Wind. Her heavy breathing matched the large dire wolf's huffs. She was meant to meet with the small folk, taking on her husband's duties as he returned to Riverrun. She sighed at the sight of the guard at the study's door. The necessity for one seeming extreme. She hid a smile as she watched his eyes grow wide at either the sight of her or the large wolf at her side. The man shook slightly as he opened the door, trying to bow respectfully to her as she entered. Grey Wind eagerly followed obviously frightening the poor fellow. 

The Blackfish stood proudly against the fireplace, elbow leaning against its mantle. He nodded to Rhaenyra as she walked through. Her eyes met Catelyn's immediately, her shoulder's fell in ease at the sight of her good mother. Rhaenyra lovingly touched her as she moved to sit in the high back chair that seemed to arrogantly center the room. She fell into the seat, her hands moving to soothe her babe shifting in her belly. Catelyn smirked at the sight and moved forward to speak. She was interrupted by her uncle Brynden. 

"I did not properly congratulate you on your pregnancy, your grace." 

Rhaenyra tilted her head, "Thank you, my lord." She called for Grey Wind, he fell to her feet under the obnoxious desk. "What business do we have today?"

Catelyn's gaze fell to the floor, "Your father has arrived." Rhaenyra reclined in her seat, she did not want to see him. "Without the Kingslayer." 

She stood from her seat, "I did hope to meet with some people of Riverrun." Her head rested against her heavily jeweled fist. Roose Bolton's proximity annoying her as the seconds ticked by. "Send him in." The Blackfish left hastily with her words, leaving her alone with her good mother. "Before he disrupts us. How are you?" 

"I am well." Catelyn breathed deeply before continuing. Her blue eyes shifted to the stone floor, "It has been a year." 

"I know. We have won every battle," she closed her eyes as she did not find comfort in her own comment. Rhaenyra brought a hand to her belly once more as she attempted to ease her nerves. "But we are losing the war." 

Catelyn shook her head. "We are not. The Lannisters only have their cunning. We have a strategy that pushes through it, they are blinded by their own manipulation." She moved to stand beside her queen, her daughter in all but blood. 

Rhaenyra looked curiously to her stomach, "Brute does not win wars. Deceit does." She felt Grey Wind rise from his spot on the floor to gently place his head against her lap. She giggled, pulling his ears with her hands. "The Lannisters have nearly the entirety of Westeros at their call with Renly dead. How foolish for the realm to think them the true rulers? How can they be so blind to see the children who stalk through the Red Keep are pure lion, no Stag blood runs through their veins." 

"Each house bowed to the dragons. Now they are dead, squabbling over the throne without them."

Rhaenyra turned abruptly, "You are not suggesting bowing to the dragon queen." Catelyn shook her head, she held her hands together wishing to continue but was interrupted by a deep hiss. "He is moving." Rhaenyra laughed lightly, "Both my sons did not move so early. He is a special prince." 

Catelyn laughed with her, "He is not even born yet and already he has opinions." 

The two were interrupted by the door banging open, Rhaenyra rolled her eyes as she returned to nestle in her chair. Her violet eyes followed each man that trecked into the room, recognizing each with ease. She lifted her hand to her mouth to stifle a yawn, dealing with her father clearly deeming boring. She lifted an eyebrow as she noticed the fresh blood that restained the clothes of the bannermen. One courteously introduced her father. Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort, father to her grace Queen Rhaenyra Stark. She rolled her eyes and gave the man a look of equal extravagance to her father's new claimed title. 

Rhaenyra scoffed, "Father." Roose Bolton stood with his familiar arrogance and security. His blue eyes settled on his Queen and daughter. 

He bowed deeply, "My queen."

"Why are you here?" Rhaenrya sat straighter as her father rose. "You were to be with my husband. Not here." His men laughed at her words, only silencing with a cold look from their Lord. Or perhaps it was sight of the large wolf that warmed their queen's feet.

Her father curtly nodded to the door, the men filed out. "I met briefly with his grace at Herranhal. He debriefed me on all matters. I insisted I journey here, seeing as your heavy with child." His eyes lingered on her stomach. Rhaenyra pushed her hands away to rest on her chair's arms. 

"Why are you here?" Her violet eyes burned into his. Grey Wind softly growled as her anger began to rise. He moved from his spot beneath the desk to stand tall beside her, mirroring the pride Catelyn held on her other shoulder. 

Her father smirked, "I am to marry." Catelyn turned shocked to Rhaenyra who returned the same emotion. Roose simply crossed his arms as he continued to speak,"Lord Frey has promised me a bride, her dowery in her weight. I am glad to say I have a fat young bride." 

Catelyn spoke, "Are we to attend?" 

"My daughter, the queen is all I ask. No prisoners."

"Do not speak to her that way. She is no longer a prisoner under my command. We will be at your wedding father." Grey Wind's teeth flared ever so slightly as she spoke. Rhaenyra stood, pushing herself against the desk. "Lady Stark is my advisor. All the other Lord's save for the Blackfish have gone to aide their King. I wish I could say the same for my loving father." 

"Yes Rhaenyra, they do miss me in the war camp your husband commands. With all the whores and filth," his eyes met hers, knowing each word stung his daughter. "But under your husband's rule even at the brothel of a camp, there are no bastards nannying your children, and none hoping to be the Queen's lady in waiting like there is here."

"Bastard?" Rhaenyra questioned. Her eyes adverted from her father to her hand that lightly shook, she clutched it tightly. "You speak ill of my maid, why?" 

"She was raised to be a whore. She probably is, how do you know she does not offer herself to your husband every night whilst you sleep?" She could hear the cockiness in his voice. Her stomach churned at his lies. The very lies that caused her to fall victim to his words. "I know you try to be a good wife, Rhaenyra. Just don't be surprised when the King comes home with another Snow for you to raise. Our families are fond of collecting them." He had not spoken to her this way in years. The horrid feeling of sadness crept into her heart, the same feeling that always made her feel worthless and useless in her father's eyes. 

"Your grace," Catelyn spoke softly, noticing Rhaenyra's head lowering into its once submissive stance. 

"Pardon?"

"She is no longer simply Rhaenyra. She is your grace, even if she is your child she ranks higher than you. Now, please leave Lord Bolton." She wrapped her arms around the numbing queen, bringing her gently into an embrace.


	8. Chapter 8

Rhaenyra walked through the silent sept, feeling ever more of an outsider in the flowery South. Each step echoed greatly throughout the silent building. Her eyes glanced over the seven walls as she attempted to identify each of the unfamiliar gods. 

In Winterfell, Robb spoke fondly of the religion his mother practiced. He would delve into the names and purposes of each, even leaving to pray to them on a few occasions. Rhaenyra never joined. But there she was, the wolf stalking through the red-bricked sept. 

The marble statues of the gods looked down on here with their frozen eyes. She felt their hatred as she inched deeper and deeper into their place. The scent of incense and candles filled the air, tapestries lined the walls proudly displaying the sigil for the light of the seven. Stained glass gave the grave room a rainbow tint, but the glare of the gods did not cease. 

Rhaenyra bent to her knees in the center of the room, looking toward the seven-pointed star that graced the ceiling. Her hands rested against her shifting womb readying to pray to these odd beings. 

Her family was of the South, some. These were the protectors of the South, she begged for their blessings. Rhaenyra's eyes closed as she offered the gods her first prayers. She prayed for her family's safety, for the war to end, everything she deemed important. With each prayer came both a sense of unwelcome and a sense of betrayal to her own gods. Rhaenyra sighed, rising from her knees in a struggle. 

She turned to face each of the Seven. Her violet eyes went to the candles that laid under their feet. Slowly, she walked to the closest. The candles were set against a table, their wax falling over its edge upon the bricked floor. Rhaenyra lifted her hand to tickle the flames as she always did. Her child kicked against her as the flames failed to burn her palm. Reluctantly she pulled her hand away to rest against her belly, trying to ease her shifting babe. 

She prayed it was a girl, a princess. Secretly, of course. Rhaenyra loved her sons but having a girl to dote upon would be lovely. She had grown with brothers, their care and adoration was too pure. Sometimes. So, she wished for a daughter for her own sons to watch over. 

But a son, a son would be a Northern prince. He would bring pride to the Stark family. A strong bannerman for his brother. She would be proud either way. 

Rhaenyra pressed her hand once more to her belly as the babe shifted. "And what name shall we give you? Bethany? Lyanna?" No movement, she rolled her eyes. "You were fond of offering opinions the other day but now," her voice faded. "How about Eddard?" She laughed as the child seemed to refuse to move. 

"Laughing in a sept?" Came a booming voice. Rhaenyra turned quickly to see her husband standing at the entrance to the room. Her hands fell from her belly as she lifted her skirts to quickly run toward him. He embraced her and her heavy impact against him. Robb nestled his cheek against the crown of her head. "I've missed you."

"You and our sons have been gone for months." Her voice was mumbled against his tunic, but her soothing tone was a welcomed sound to his ears. 

He pulled away from her, looking down at her grown abdomen. His hand rubbed against it, hers rested atop his. Rhaenyra moved her hand to rest against his face, smiling at the scratch of his beard. She stood on the tip of her boots to place her lips upon his. Robb eagerly kissed back, happy to be in the loving presence of his wife. "I am so glad to be here." 

"I am yours once more." 

"You've always been mine." Rhaenyra's heart swelled as Robb kissed her as her hand reached for his messy curls as she deepened the kiss. "I am yours," his lips moved to her neck. She shifted it further away allowing him to trail toward her collar bones. "And you are mine." Robb's blue eyes found hers, she giggled lightly as he pressed his forehead upon her own. "Until the end of my days." 

Rhaenyra smiled, "Until the end of my days." She pushed her fingers through his hair, bringing his head to rest against the crook of her neck. His arms wrapped around her waist as he lazily fell into her. It was a contentful moment for the two. 

Robb smiled against her skin, pressing a gentle kiss to her neck before leaving her arms. He wrapped his hand around hers to lead her toward the door of the sept. Rhaenyra intertwined their fingers as they exited the cold house of worship. 

The misty air greeted the two as they stepped outside. Rhaenyra quickly admired the green that surrounded them, how it contrasted against the sandstones of the keep and the grey of the sky. Her hand was suddenly pulled while her eyes lingered on the continuous hills. She turned to Robb who gestured toward a tree that lingered feet away. His hand fell from hers as he walked toward the white-barked tree. It was a weirwood. 

Rhaenyra felt a sense of familiarity at the sight of the crying face. It was poetic to see the King in the North nestled against the trunk, the tree of the Old Gods. She placed her hand against his shoulder to sit beside him, the other held her stomach as she eased herself down. Robb wrapped his arm over her shoulder before speaking, "I want a few moments with you before we face the rest." 

Her hand rested against lovingly against his thigh. "Remember when we met," he offered her a low hum in response. "Jon shoved you forward to greet me. You looked so terrified to even shake my hand," she gave a small laugh. "Your hands were so sweaty." 

"I was nervous." Robb huffed a laugh, "My father warned me of my betrothal a week before your arrival. I saw you on your horse, those eyes made me evermore anxious." He lifted his free hand, gently pushing her face to look toward him. "I fell for those eyes first." A light blush fell over her cheeks as he continued to glance over her violet eyes. "Then the way you carried yourself. You walked into my home as if you'd lived there for a hundred years." Rhaenyra smiled at his comment. "When I saw you walk toward me, ready to promise yourself to me in front of your family and the gods. I knew I loved you. I knew I was willing to be yours." His hand fell from her face, he turned to look at the keep before them. "I feel deeper and deeper into the pit we call love every day." 

"I love you." Robb turned as if wanting her to continue the reasons for their attraction. Rhaenyra giggled, "My love for you, did not hit me as it did you. I found myself needing you as I do now. I could not and cannot bear being away from you." She lifted his arm from around her shoulders to grip his hand. "I love how respectful you are, how honorable. How you would willingly die for me. Gods forbid." Rhaenyra lifted her hand to twist her fingers through his hair, "But I love your eyes, your jaw, your hair. I adore your curls. They're just as wild as you. They can never be contained like the wolf blood that runs through you." She turned his face toward her, "But I love your heart. The expanse of it forever amazes me.


	9. Chapter 9

Riverrun's great hall was lively, music echoed off the walls along with shouts of the crude Northmen that filled it. It was a needed celebration, despite its reasons. Roose Bolton was married once more, to Walda Frey. Both sat silently beside each other in the center of the hall. No one questioned the oddness of the union merely enjoying the merriment in the stressful time with a horn of ale. 

At the high table sat their King, who struggled to feed his youngest son shredded cheese. The young prince shook his head at the sight of food, crying a small refusal as it neared him. Robb shook his head at his stubbornness. He noticed how his son grew ever more headstrong during their time away. The one-year-old grew fond of crying over small instances, Robb thanked the gods Henry was not crying at the cheese he offered. His eyes wandered over the noisy room finally catching sight of his Queen and heir. The two danced humorously together, sharing laughter and a smile. 

Rhaenyra threw her head back in laughter as Domeric pressed his palm against hers. My funny child, she thought. The young prince attempted to follow her movements to the calm beat of the song. His face was strong in concentration as he eagerly watched her feet. Rhaenyra placed her hand high, out of his reach. Domeric jumped eagerly to grasp his mother's hand but appeared surprised as she turned him in his spot. 

"Again!" She smiled, placing her hand at the same height for him to jump. Rhaenyra laughed as she turned him, quicker this time. Domeric fell dramatically against her, she quickly opened her arms to catch him. He shared a smile before pushing himself away and sprinting into the horde of Bannermen. Rhaenyra shook her head and retreated back to the comfort of the high table. 

Robb sat with Henry in his lap, the baby held his father's crown in his hands. "So curious." She said before pulling him toward her. Henry dropped the crown against the table to focus his attention on his mother. "Do you fancy a crown?" His grey eyes shifted to the tiara that sat against her head, his chubby finger pointed to it. "Now come on you must eat." He rested against her rounded belly, watching as she began to tear bread for him. Robb hid a smile behind his hand as he watched the two. 

"How do you feel about your new mother?" Robb gestured to the young woman who smiled gently to Domeric, Roose held him proudly. Clearly displaying the pride of House Bolton to his young bride. 

Rhaenyra's eyes rose, "She has warm eyes. I see hope in them." She lifted a piece of bread for her child to grab. "I hope my father treats her kindly." Her eyes fell once more as the young Walda caressed Domeric's face. She was the only Frey present, her own father refused to attend out of hatred for the Northern monarchs. Rhaenyra sadness for the girl continued to grow. "You do know if they have a son, Henry will no longer be my father's heir."

Robb nodded, "I know."

"He is doing this simply to break his ties slowly. The only loyalty he has for you, the only thing that will bind the Bolton into a submissive place with the Stark's is me." Rhaenyra leaned into her high backed chair. "Domeric is your heir, Henry was his. He will have another child to replace me and he'll be gone." Robb reached for her hand, she refused his touch by reaching for another piece of bread. "I can say I am relieved." 

Robb watched as her face quickly brightened, he turned to see Domeric running toward their table. His curls bounced with each step, Robb smiled. He rose a hand for his son to join his side, Domeric hopped on to the platform and ran to his father. His small hands gripped the arm of the chair as he rose to whisper into Robb's ear. "Father." He laughed, pushing his hands against his mouth before continuing. Robb placed a hand on his back to ease the child's humor. "Grandfather said there is to be another ceremony." More giggles interrupted, "Involving a bed." He clearly did not know what the ceremony entailed, his humor most likely coming from the thought of his grandfather sleeping so early. 

Rhaenyra sighed in her seat, leaning behind Robb's chair to call for Domeric. The child followed and sat on his constantly emptied seat beside her. The entire hall silenced as Robb rose in his seat, the songs stopped mid tune along with the shouts of the Northmen. His eyes gave a false scowl, a smile fighting to grace his lips. "Lord Bolton," his father by law rose across the room. "Lady Walda," the young girl nodded respectfully to her king. "I ask the gods, old and new, to bless you and your marriage. You have served me well Lord Bolton, I am proud to call you my good father. Congratulations," he lifted his emptied goblet from the table to raise in honor of the couple. Rhaenyra followed, eyes never leaving her father. The Northmen's roars filled the hall once more in celebration only to be silenced by the king's hand. "Now, what is a wedding without the bedding." The roars returned, the high born Lord's rushed to the table. Each lifted Lady Walda high above them, some starting to tear at her wedding gown. 

Rhaenyra sighed as the Lord's exited the hall, leaving her father to slowly walk toward their table. "Father." She spoke coldly, her arms protectively wrapped around the eating Henry. 

"Your grace, your grace." Robb fell back into his seat, waiting for Roose to continue. "I am honored by your blessings. But I must say I did not come to humbly speak to my King and Queen." His eyes laid on Rhaenyra, who struggled to sit strongly in her chair. She looked back with the same burning stare and disdain in her gaze. 

"Go on," Robb said as he noticed his wife's unease. 

"If I can speak alone with my child," he was interrupted. 

"No," Rhaenyra and Robb spoke simultaneously. 

Roose smiled, "Fine. I was simply going to discuss the meeting with the Freys that will occur soon. My wife is a Frey, I offer leverage to the situation. That is all, goodnight." He turned to walk, leaving the monarch's alone in the hall. 

Rhaenyra's shoulders fell watching him leave. She gave a shattered breath before searching for Robb's hand. "Don't let him into the meeting."


	10. Chapter 10

he awkward silence of the Lord's solar was incredibly thick, along with the tension that continued to rise with the passing minutes. Two Frey men sat across the King and Queen in the North, dark scowls etching on their faces. Their eyes would shift to the queen's belly, clearly large with child. They did not attempt to hide their hate each time they looked over. Robb and Rhaenyra were joined by their advisors, bound in blood and honor. Edmure and Bryden Tully. 

Rhaenyra rubbed her hands against her stomach, returning the Frey's hatred. She sat taller in her seat attempting to appear more intimidating to the vile men. "You're ride? Was it decent?" Her voice dripped in insincerity, "And your lord father, is he well?" 

The older of the two tilted his head as he answered, "There is no need for formalities, your grace." Rhaenyra looked him over as he spoke, noticing the sigil of House Frey on his tunic. The Twins had been manipulated to suit a bastard, a red line crossing over the towers. She pushed from her seat, having a need to stretch her sore legs. Her swelled ankles ached as she walked from the table. The bluntness of the Frey giving her a need for air, she stood beside the opened windows. The crudeness their presence emanated caused a great pressure against her. Rhaenyra placed her hand against the cool stone that separated the open arches. 

Robb's eyes shifted to her, she nodded slightly for him to speak. He held his hands atop the table, shoulders tensing. " Thank you for riding here so quickly. I know travel isn't easy in these times." The Frey men across turned to one another, cautiously choosing their words. 

"The roads are crawling with cutthroats and bandits," said Black Walder. He rose his chin as he continued, his voice lowering into an almost whisper. "But when the King of the North summons us, we come." He opened his arms, gesturing towards him and his brother's obedience. 

His brother Lothar spoke up, his face deadpan. " Our father has instructed us to tell you that his alliance with the North can continue." Rhaenyra's heart speed in hope at his words. She thanked the gods for Lord Frey's consideration. "If his terms are met," the hope shattered. 

Rhaenyra watched as he spoke, he was clearly unamused. She brought her hand to her chest, rubbing her fingers against the cool dire wolf broach at the center of her dress. "What are his terms?" Lothar nearly sneered as she spoke, he refused to meet her gaze. His eyes continued to rest on Robb, finding the Queen to lack the authority her husband bore. 

"Lord Frey requires a formal apology for your violation of your sacred oath of betrothal between our two families." The room eerily fell silent, none wanting to disagree with the terms brought upon the North. 

"My father married his granddaughter," Rhaenyra's voice came as a whisper that echoed throughout the solar. "That further solidified our families did it not?" 

"Yes, your father. A small Northern lord compared to what was offered. He was promised your heir, making a Frey woman the next Queen in the North," said Black Walder. Her gut tightened at the way he spoke of her child. Rhaenyra's disdain etched into her face, a gloom evident upon her features. She walked to the table to stand beside her husband, her hand rested against his shoulder waiting for him to speak. 

His shoulder tensed under her touch. "Of course. I was in the wrong for breaking the engagements. He deserves a proper apology." Robb's tone was cold despite his attempts at seeming open to the negotiations. He had to grovel in front of a withering man, weakening his credibility as a strong king. 

Black Walder coughed, "As restitution for this betrayal, he demands Harrenhal and all its attendant lands." Rhaenyra removed her hand from Robb's shoulder. She returned to her place by the pillar as anger enveloped her. Her eyes gazed upon the expanse of the Riverlands rather than the Frey men. 

Robb agreed to their terms, "It is his once the war is over and we have no further strategic need for it." 

"And there's something else." 

" We will do whatever we can to give Lord Frey what he needs." 

"Not what, whom," sung Walder. Rhaenyra turned to see all eyes upon Edmure. He gazed down at his nails picking at the dirt beneath his nails in boredom. Clearly he found the negotiations boring and unworthy of his time. 

Rhaenyra could not help but bellow out a laugh. Her hands rested against her stomach as humor took over, her eyes never leaving the oblivious Tully. "Out of all loyal men we have." Rhaenyra joked. 

"He is our liege lord," argued Lothar. 

"I'm sorry," said Edmure finally picking his head up from his hand. His eyes filled with confusion as he looked around the table. He turned to see his Queen pressing her hand to her mouth to hold in giggles. "No," his voice dragged in desperation and refusal, apparently he had heard their discussions. 

Lothar nodded, " Our father requires Lord Edmure to wed one of his daughters, Roslin." 

Vanity and pride overtook Edmure, "How old is she? Can I see her first?" He was not ignorant when it came to Frey woman, they were infamous for their looks that mirrored the men that sat before them. None were notably beautiful. Edmure shuttered at the thought of taking one for a bride. 

"You want to count her teeth? We depart for the Twins in the morning. We need an answer before we leave and a wedding no more than a fortnight thereafter or this alliance is at an end." 

Lord Brynden, who sat quietly at the edge of the table began to laugh lowly. "Your father does realize we're in the middle of a war?" 

" Father is old. It will put his heart at peace if he could see her wed to a good husband." 

Black Walder turned to Rhaenyra as he aided in his brother's argument. "And his recent experience has made him wary. He wishes to have all his daughters married before summer ends." 

Robb gently tapped his fist against the table, "He has every right to be. Please excuse us while we discuss it." The two Frey men slowly hobbled out, leaving the King and Queen along with their family. Robb rose to stand beside his wife, he eagerly reached for her hand. He sighed as he intertwined his fingers to ease his nerves. 

Rhaenyra kissed the back of his hand before turning to Edmure. His face bright red in anger, fist were clenched against the table as he sat like a tempered child in their seat. "Why should I let that old ferret choose my bride for me? I am his liege lord!" His shouts echoed throughout the room. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, dropping her hand from Robb's to stand before her good uncle. 

She crouched to his eye level, "You forget Robb and I were an arranged marriage. You will learn to love her." She stood tall once more a hand pressed against Edmure's shoulder. She dug her nails slightly into his tunic out of annoyance. "Lord Frey is a proud man and we have wounded him." She removed her hand and returned to her husband. Robb's eyes were clouded in thought as he leaned against the window's pane looking toward the continuous hills of the Riverlands. The blue in his eyes mimicked the roaring storm clouds that rolled onto the land. 

"I didn't wound him. My answer is no."

"You're stubbornness will be the death of us Edmure." Rhaenyra snapped, her violet eyes turning dark. "If you refuse, our alliance with the Frey's is dead!" Her voice rose, Edmure's strong head igniting the fire of her rage. The Blackfish agreed with her anger, offering a chuckle as Edmure cowered further into his seat. Bryden stood from his cornered chair to roughly smack the back of his nephew's head. 

He muttered, "I'll offer you my fist if you do not agree, my Lord." Brynden smiled to Rhaenyra, shifting around the table to leave as he did. At the sound of the door closing, Robb began to speak. 

"Uncle I beg if you do not marry this woman we will lose this war." Robb's voice was strained as he spoke, his hand shook as he laid it against his sword. "You're willing to risk our freedom and our lives for a chance at a prettier wife?" He walked to his uncle, "I have a war to fight. We can't win it without them. I have no time to haggle. If we don't do this and do it now, we're lost." 

Once again all eyes fell on Edmure, "I'll marry her."


	11. Chapter 11

The Riverlands were breathtaking, especially in the early hours. A silence spread across the land with a summer fog winding through endless hills that surrounded the Lord's keeps. It was a welcome sight, for in the hours to come servants would flee around the castle in work while the Northmen would spare in the gardens. 

The Queen of those crude men leaned heavily against the brick of Riverrun. Besides her sat her large dire wolf who long to be in their warm chamber's laying in front of the fire. Rhaenyra used the silence of the morning to enjoy the solitude, preferring the company of a wordless wolf overall. She dressed in the darkness, her outfit compiled of Robb's tossed clothing from their rumpus night. She did not mind for they smelt of him. 

Scratching her wolf against his ear, she smiled. It was the silence that brought contentment. The stress of the Freys being pushed away briefly. She reached down to pick up the bow and few arrows she had stolen from the courtyard. Rhaenyra began to walk forward calling Grey Wind with a small whistle. 

She huffed a cloud of breath as she furthered the treck up the small hill, turning slightly to see her wolf obediently following. Her eyes glanced around the lands in search of a natural target to practice her aim. With a giddy squeal, she picked up her pace to a lone tree.

Rhaenyra unpinned her dire wolf broach from her cloak. She flung it to the ground only to spread it for Grey Wind to lay upon. He did, stretching his legs past the length of the fabric's edge. Rhaenyra smiled and dropped the arrows beside him. 

She slid a single arrow from the carrier. It was a foreign feeling to have it between her fingers once more. Her other hand lifts the bow with a natural ease for her to immediately knock her arrow. Rhaenyra dropped her shoulders as her eyes met the center of the tree, she drew the bow's string back to her cheek. With a calming breathe she released it. 

It had been months since she properly held a weapon, even longer since she used a bow. A sense of pride filled her once the arrow struck dead center against the tree's trunk. The thought she lost her ability fading quickly as she reached for another arrow. Rhaenyra loosened the arrow and jumped excitedly as it too hit the center, above her previous shot. 

She turned to Grey Wind to share her delight, he did not bother to raise his head. Rhaenyra rolled her eyes muttering to herself about his laziness before bending to retrieve another arrow. She hissed as she straightened, her back erupting in pain. With a shake of her head, she knocked ready to shoot. As the feathers of the arrow's end tickled her cheek, she paused. The silence of the morning had ended. 

The sound of feet pressing into the grass behind her angered her. She was not ready to battle any man. Rhaenyra played ignorant to the intruder as they got closer. She moved as Grey Wind gave a huff of a growl. In a graceful motion, she dropped her previous weapon and reached for another. With fluidity, she retrieved her ancestral dagger from her boot. Rhaenyra turned, pressing the edge of her blade into the person's neck. Before slicing, she screamed, "Robb Stark!" Her husband laughed loudly as she dropped her hand in defeat to her side. "You dare frighten your wife?!" Rhaenyra's voice was high pitched, out of embarrassment and anger. 

Robb rubbed his gloved fingers against the nick at his throat, laughter still enveloping him. "Gods Rhea," a smile etched onto his face. "I simply wanted to share a breakfast with you. Yet here you are ready to murder me. After four years of marriage love, I did not take you for my killer." His laugh grew harder as he threw his arms around his wife. Rhaenyra returned his affections. 

"How did you know where I was? I sneak out quite early."

Robb's arms fell from her. He pointed to a point in the keep that seemed miles high, "The guard in the tower told me." Rhaenyra laughed, placing her dagger back into her shoe. 

"Grey Wind," she patted his head for him to leave. With an annoyed whine, the wolf trecked back to Riverrun clearly in hopes of continuing his sleep in the warmth of its hearth. Rhaenyra placed a hand against her husband, pushing herself onto her cloak. She sat against it, the poor fabric was wet from the grass causing it to smell of her wolf. With a defeated sigh, she patted the emptied spot beside her. 

Robb smirked, "Here." He reached into his cloak pockets to retrieve flattened pastries. He handed her a fruit-filled one, holding it out in a way that reminded her of a child. With a curious look Rhaenyra reached for it. Robb sat beside her only to quickly pull the edge of his cloak onto his lap. "Shit." He sat on his pastry. 

Rhaenyra giggled as she ate her breakfast, watching Robb dig into his other pocket to retrieve the goodie. He turned his pocket inside out only to reveal the sweet mess of it's inside. Fruit and dough was everywhere, but somehow the majority remained intact. Robb muttered curses to himself before bitting into the destroyed pastry. "The Young Wolf gets upset over exploded baked goods, who knew." She giggled and kissed his cheek. "Don't fret we'll have it cleaned before we leave." 

Her stomach twisted as reality struck. The Stark party was meant to leave for the Twins. The uneasiness of the departure now lingered. She turned to her discarded bow, remembering why she craved solitude. "No later than noon. I want to make camp before nightfall." Robb's blue eyes shifted to the tree that stood feet away, he bit into his pastry before speaking. "You're anxious."

Rhaenyra sighed, "That and I merely wanted to prove something to myself."

Robb turned abruptly, tilting his head before questioning her. "What do you need to prove?" Her eyes shifted to her hands, looking to the fruit stains that covered her fingers. "Love."

"I find I have become a meek wife, mother. I have not used a bow in years, my dagger." She pulled her blade once more from her shoe. "I am grateful I haven't but I fear I have lost touch with who I was. The ferocity I once held is gone."

Robb shook his head before reaching for her hand, "Rhea, love look at me." Her eyes shifted from the blade to him. "You're the Pretty Wolf, they sing songs not only of your beauty and immortality but how savagely fierce you are. I see men cower as you walk by. I thought you were joking when you said you've become meek." Rhaenyra laughed slightly, tightening her hand against his. 

"I'm not soft then?"

"Far from it." 

"I just have moments where I doubt myself. I believe that doubt has diminished, my King." She kissed his cheek once more, "I love you."

"I love you."


	12. Chapter 12

Rain poured heavily upon the Northern camp. In the distance, the growing sound of thunder increased with occasional flashes of lightning. The gods enjoyed tormenting the North's camps while in the South. The passing moments intensified the showers as the clouds spread darkness over the Riverlands. 

Rhaenyra's hand curled her hand against the curtain opening to her tent. The mist of the rain greeted her as she attempted to see passed its thick pour. With a sigh, she turned to Catelyn. "He has been gone for too long." She pushed a hand through her dark hair to rest it against her shoulder. "He could have sent Umber to greet him but no." Catelyn giggled in her seat, dropping her sewing beside her. 

"It has not been that long."Rhaenyra shut the opening, tying it to the post tightly. "You know how he is." Catelyn stood to stand by the small fire that centered the mock quarters. The flames offered warmth and light giving the room an orange hue. Rhaenyra's violet eyes focused on the dancing licks as Catelyn added another log to burn. "Robb places family before all, he needed to ensure your father's accommodations are alright." 

Rhaenyra rolled her eyes, walking to the cot in the corner. She sat at its edge, "I did not wish for him to come. But he insisted saying he should join both his family in their celebrations." She placed her hands against her stomach. Her father remained in Herranhal following his marriage to Walda Frey. Rhaenyra was grateful for his departure, feeling secure in his absence. His proximity brought consistent unease only causing a dire need for Robb's reassurance. 

"Stop fretting," said Catelyn. She clasped her hands together eyes glancing around the simple tent. "I find the absence of my grandchildren is quite," she paused to return to her seat. "Odd. Your tent during the battles seemed to hold so much life, the simplicity of this one's furniture saddens me somewhat." Rhaenyra laughed at her comment, reaching forward to grab her hand. "I know this tent is temporary but I miss them." 

"Your uncle is with them, they are fine and safe at Riverrun. Don't worry." She knew her good mother needed comfort in her stresses. Rhaenyra understood, briefly thinking of her dead brothers-in-laws. They were the last children Catelyn departed from, Rhaenyra shared her concerns. 

She dropped her hand to return it to her belly where her babe insisted on kicking about. With a sigh, she rose from the cot to stand beside the fire. Her child's kicks intensified as the fire beckoned as it always did. Rhaenyra tilted her head, watching the flames dance in motion. "Hello," she turned her head quickly to see her husband walk in. She smirked to him, grabbing a discarded towel left on the cot for him. 

Rhaenyra laughed as she pulled against his wet hair, "You smell of wet wolf," she whispered. Robb shook his head earning a scream from his wife as water sprung off him. She placed the towel over his face and head. "Stop!" Rhaenyra squealed through laughter. 

She pushed the towel against his head to reveal his face. Robb kissed her, "You said I smell of wolf." Rhaenyra twisted her face, finding his beard to match in wetness. She continued to dry his hair, her eyes meeting his. She stood against the tip of her boots to kiss him once more. Robb shifted to remove his drenched cloak, Rhaenyra moved her fingers between his to help. He smiled at her before snapping his head to the shifting curtains at the entrance of the tent. His hand instinctively went to his sword's hilt. 

"The rain will cost us another day," complained Roose Bolton as he entered the tent. Beside him walked Edmure who ignored his King and Queen to stand beside his sister. 

Robb sighed and brought his hands to cover his wife's. "Frey will wait. He knows we're coming." Rhaenyra's fingers stopped struggling to untie the cloak. 

Catelyn rester her hand against her brother's shoulder as he sat beside her. "Lord Walder is prickly by nature." 

Rhaenyra scoffed, "He is naturally unpleasant. I've seen wet shits I liked better than Walder Frey. I haven't even given him the honor of meeting me and yet here I am hating him." 

"Lord Frey will take this delay as a slight," Catelyn's eyes held concern. She sat taller in her seat as she continued to watch her son and his wife. 

Edmure broke his eery silence, " He can take it as he likes. He's getting the wedding he wanted." 

"He's getting a wedding. It was an heir he wanted." Rhaenyra's hands went to her abdomen as if trying to protect the child growing within. 

She swallowed heavily, "We best get some sleep, we have an early journey." Her family trickled away at her command, leaving her and Robb blissfully alone. Rhaenyra's eyes met his before she jumped to wrap her arms around his neck. Her lips met his heatedly before she blindly lead him to their shared cot. He carefully hovered above her, his lips moving from her lips to her neck. Rhaenyra laughed as she pressed her hands to his chest finding him to still be wearing his armor. 

Moments later, Robb laid his head on his wife's chest. He listened to her steady heartbeat while his hand rubbed against her lower belly. Rhaenyra's fingers moved through his curls, her eyes struggling to remain open. She felt her child kick within and Robb's hand retracted quickly. He lifted his head from her breast to sit up straight. His blue eyes never left her belly as he watched their child's foot press against her skin. The small outline earning a beam of a smile from their father. 

Robb rose from the bed, beautifully nude. Rhaenyra could not help but follow his figure as he walked to the corner of the room. He stood before his desk to quickly search for letters that needed responses. Rhaenyra caught the glimpse of one's seal, its pinkish seal contrasting against the grey of the others. 

She sat straighter in the bed, not bothering to shift the blankets to cover herself. Robb turned to bring the letter to her. He stopped, "You know if you don't put clothes on, I can't promise I won't attack you again." 

Rhaenyra scoffed, "I attacked you." He sat beside her holding the note from her brother. She took it, eagerly waiting to read of her brother's next tortures. It was pure nonsense, his letter merely was an update on his life at the Dreadfort. A pure bore compared to his last few notes. She rolled her eyes at the mention of his new lover. "Can you hand me that board?" Robb did, she furiously wrote her own life update which she always dreaded doing. She signed the letter with her name and titles ending it with a Valyrian phrase, Volar Dohaeris. She loved her brother but she needed to remind him of his place in the war. 

Robb tilted her board toward him, "All men must serve?" Rhaenyra nodded before rising from the bed, she swiftly readied her letter to be sent. "I didn't know you spoke Valyrian."

"I don't." She poured the grey wax over the edge of the parchment. "My brothers were quite fond of the two phrases Valar Morghulis and Valar Dohaeris."She pressed the seal of her house into the wax before turning to face her husband, "Ramsay needs a reminder the crucial part he plays in this war."


	13. Chapter 13

The Twins were hideous, from the people that filled it to the architecture that inappropriately stood. It emanated pure coldness the further and further into its walls. Rhaenyra's hand gripped her husband as they were lead to the great hall to be received by Lord Frey. There was a sense of insecurity as they stood at the doors, feeling barren without the presence of Grey Wind or a sword for protection. She wondered why Lord Frey insisted against weapons. 

Frey men pushed the hall doors for the Northern party to enter. It was filled with countless people, each resembling the man who sat centered. Lord Frey. Rhaenyra's hand tightened around Robb's at the sight of him, he appeared to be a weak old man who looked more like a skeleton than a Lord. His bony fingers beckoned them closer. 

"My honored guests, be welcome within my walls and at my table. I extend to you my hospitality and protection in the light of the Seven," his eyes met hers causing a filthy feeling to erupt through her body. Rhaenyra attempted to advert her eyes, she then noticed the young girl standing at his side. Her stomach instantly churned. 

Robb dropped her hand to step forward. "We thank you for your hospitality, my lord. I have come to make my apologies for my House, my lord, and to beg your forgiveness." His words emanated pure strength. Rhaenyra watched as he spoke, admiring him even more. Her eyes focused on the crown he adorned preferring to watch it gleam over the horrid man she stood before. 

"Don't beg my forgiveness, your Grace. It wasn't me you spurned, it was my girls." Lord Frey lifted his arms for his children to come forth. Rhaenyra rested her hand against her belly as young girls came forth, some pregnant others appeared to be younger than ten years. They lined around the hall, looking to the floor in shame. "One of them was supposed to be queen, now none of them are. Even those right there," he pointed to the three that stood together in the line. "Could have given you a decent betrothed for your son." Rhaenyra shuttered at his words only finding him more loathsome as he spoke. 

Robb looked to the children of Lord Frey, "My ladies. All men should keep their word, kings most of all. I pledged to make one of you, or your children, queen and I broke that vow. Any man would be lucky to have anyone of you. I did what I did not to slight you, but because my sons are mere children. I know these words cannot set right the wrong I have done to you and your house. I beg your forgiveness and pledge to do all I can to make amends so the Freys of the Crossing and the Starks of Winterfell may once again be friends." 

Lord Walder obnoxiously claps his hands, the girls leave. "Very good, I," he stopped speaking as his eyes caught the gleam of another crown. "There she is. Queen Rhaenyra!" Her head snapped to look toward him, he curled his fingers to her. "Come here." She looked desperately to her husband who nodded in the direction of Lord Frey. 

"Lord Frey," her voice was a whisper. 

"Closer let me have a proper look." Rhaenyra stood a foot before him, her hands at her side and her eyes to the stone floor. She felt the eyes of his countless children on her as their Lord father glanced over her. "The Pretty Wolf alright." Snickers erupted through the room, "The Pretty Wolf who controls the North with what's between her legs. I bet when you have that little whelp of yours everything will snap back into place." He lifted his hand to push her away. Rhaenyra returned to Robb's side eagerly. "You shouldn't have brought her here, your grace." Robb tensed at his words, his hand reached for hers. "You betrayed me over a tight fit and firm tits. Bringing the woman who blinded my son." Lord Frey's scowl broke with a fit of laughter. "And I can respect that. When I was your age, I'd have broken fifty oaths to get into that without a second thought. Well, I've enough room in the hall for you lot. We'll set up tents outside with food and ale for the rest of your men." 

Rhaenyra sighed, feeling Robb's tense figure ease. "Thank you, my lord," said Robb. He remained angry as they turned to exit the hall. 

"We'll let's get ready, shall we! The wine will flow red and the music will flow loud and we shall but all this mess behind us!" Lord Frey's voice was a whisper as they exited the room. 

Upon entering the tent, Rhaenyra pushed the small table over. Anger enveloped her as she looked around the room. She kicked her boot against the floor, beginning to search for her hidden dagger. Lord Frey had disgusted and insulted her, making her rage justified. Rhaenyra moved to the cot in the corner to lift her pillow to retrieve her blade.

Robb's arms wrapped around her as her eyes met the shine of the steel. "Stop." She pushed against his hold only for it to grow tighter. "Everything is fine. Stop." She kicked her feet against the floor making him fall onto his back. His hold did not cease. 

Rhaenyra gave an angered huff before slumping against him, "I hate him. I want to boil him alive, how dare he speak like that." Robb's hold remained on her. "We should have killed him when we had the chance." 

Her husband laughed against her back, "I agree. But come let us get ready. We can plot his murder another time." Rhaenyra rolled from him, waiting for him to help her stand. 

The two prepared for the wedding in a welcomed silence, only breaking it with sneaky giggles as they helped the other dress. Robb wore a detailed tunic he received in Riverrun, the stitching mimicking water waves throughout the fabric. He had a cape to match, twin dire wolf pins securing it on each shoulder. 

Rhaenyra did not know what to wear, only having her hair braided along with berry-stained lips. She sat on their cot in her smallclothes while Robb desperately lifted the two dresses she brought along. "This?"

"It is too tight." She pressed her elbows into her knees. "The other is a day color."

"Who bloody packed for you?"

Rhaenyra giggled at his frustration, "Bella. She tries the poor girl."


	14. Chapter 14

The Twins' coldness halted during the celebrations. The Northmen ironically brought life and warmth into the depressing castles. With each celebratory shout came a clash of a drink, a slap to the face, or a silly eruption of a brawl. Music blared in favor of their culture, all for the marriage and for the union between the King in the North and House Frey. 

Edmure Tully's vanity was pleased with the sight of his young bride. Roslyn Frey was beautiful, her looks contrasting against the harsh features of her sisters and nieces. He dotted upon her quickly, proudly offering her his House cloak. His vows appeared genuine because of his narcissistic fascination with his new wife. Edmure furthered his off affection by feeding her fruits and cakes at their marriage table. Roslyn would giggle in his attention, blushing at every whisper to her ear. 

Rhaenyra shifted beside Robb on a shared bench, scratching her nails against her belly. She wore Catelyn's dress which snuggly fit against her belly awkwardly. She refused to tie the strings at her back in fear of suffocation, she insisted her belly was large enough to hold the fabric up. Rhaenyra had thrown Robb's cloak over her shoulders to hide the untied strings in attempts to appear decent. On her head, sat her odd tiara.

"We weren't that awful were we?" Her eyes remained on the newlyweds at the high table. The sight of Roslyn feeding Edmure grapes sickened her, their affection being too sweet. 

Robb nearly choked on his wine at her question. "Gods no." He lifted his fork to strike it into his pigeon pie, "Now we are." Rhaenyra laughed as he led the fork to her mouth, she obliged to humor him. Her eyes shifted passed her husband to see Catelyn and her father at the adjacent table. 

Rhaenyra pushed Robb's hand away, "Should we go save her?" 

Robb turned, "No, she can handle him." He reached for his filled goblet, drinking the wine in one swift swig. He looked toward the musicians in the hall's balcony, smiling as their song fastened. Robb wrapped an arm around his wife's shoulders to lean her against him, "A bear there was, a bear, a bear," Rhaenyra giggled as he whispered to her. "All black and brown, and covered with hair!" He sloppily kissed her against her cheek. She squirmed trying to push his arm away. "Fancy a dance, love?" 

Rhaenyra shook her head. "No, or at least not to this song." Robb laughed lowly, kissing her cheek once more. She pushed at his face, not enjoying the scratch of his beard. "When do you think we can go? Your child tires me." He rolled his eyes before leaning his face toward her once more, her hand pressed to his lips before he could kiss her again. "You're so silly," her hand pushed through the edges of his curls, mindful of the crown atop his head. Robb closed his eyes at her touch. The two turned as a scream tore through the hall, Edmure whipped the high table with his napkin. Wine leaked to the floor while Rosyln giggled at her husband's awkward movements. "The gods love to reward a fool."

Robb laughed, "Aye." He dropped his arm to her waist, bringing her closer to him on their shared bench. Rhaenyra reached for his free hand, guiding it to their kicking child. 

"Robb?" His fingers spread against her as their eyes met. "I love you." 

"And I you." Rhaenyra brought his hand to her lips, "I cannot picture myself without you." He smiled at her, gripping her hand. "But," his voice carried in a pitched tone. She quickly dropped his hand before striking his chest in a light slap. "Hitting your king is an act of treason." Rhaenyra brought her hand to his neck, roughly bringing his mouth to hers. 

The two were interrupted by Walder Frey's coarse voice. "Your grace." They pulled away blushing, eyes never separating as Robb stood from their table. "The Septon has prayed his prayers, some words were said and Lord Edmure has wrapped my daughter in a cloak. But they are not yet man and wife. A sword needs a sheath." Cheers filled the room along with clattering silverware and plates. Rhaenyra placed her head in hands, remembering the embarrassment of her own bedding ceremony. She briefly thought of her stepmother, locked away at Herranhal who suffered the same fate. "A wedding needs a bedding!" Robb walked forward, "What do you say, sire?" 

Rhaenyra giggled as the room began to chant, to bed. Robb opened his arms to gesture to their repetitions. "If you think the time is right, Lord Walder, by all means, let us bed them." The chants only increased as Rosyln was lifted from her seat, a terrified look on her face. Edmure seemed as horrified once the Frey woman attempted to do the same. Robb stalked back to his wife, drinking his wine. "Ours was not so extravagant." Rhaenyra cringed at the memory of their odd ceremony. It is not a custom in the North, yet her father insisted they had one only to ensure a consummation. 

"I hated ours." 

"You loved what came after," she glared towards him. Rhaenyra stood from the table, her hands gripping the sides as she forced herself to stand. 

"True," she whispered. "There are other ways to show proof of consummation." Her hand rested against her belly. "I can name two more." Robb laughed as he covered her hand with his palm. 

"Boy or girl?"

Rhaenyra shook her head. "I don't care. But if it is a boy, I know what name he should carry." Robb nodded for her to continue. "Eddard. We will call him Ned for your father as well." The babe kicked, causing their hands to jump. 

Robb brought his forehead to rest upon hers. "You honor me, and my house." 

"And I will until the end of my days," she separated from her husband to return to her seat. Rhaenyra focused on the music, noticing the slow tune the musicians played. It was a familiar tune one could easily hum along. Her eyes followed Robb waiting for him to rejoin her. 

"Your grace," Lord Walder spoke. " I feel I've been remiss in my duties." Rhaenyra fiddled with the fork on Robb's plate, not wanting to pay attention to his words. "I've given you meat and wine and music but I haven't shown you the hospitality you deserve. My king has sired again and I must give my queen a gift for her babe." Rhaenyra rolled her eyes at his comment. 

Her eyes widened as Catelyn stood to stab her father, "Robb!" Rhaenyra stood abruptly only to have a hand shove her into her seat. She noticed the cries of anguish behind her and joined in their pain as a blade made its way to her belly. The knife embedded into her womb, leaving blood to trail as it was pulled away. It struck again, lower. Her hand reached onto the table to retrieve any weapon, she grabbed a fork. 

Rhaenyra stopped the next stab with a bite to the wrist. She stood and in a swift motion, the fork was stuck into her would-be killer's eye. Her eyes fell to her belly to see blood staining her borrowed dress, leaking onto the stone floor she stood upon. A scream ripped through her throat. 

Her eyes briefly met Robb's as he swiftly made way to her. She fell to the floor, being thrown by a force to her side. It was her father, she was relieved to see him. Her eyes looked toward the ceiling seeing arrows fly across. Rhaenyra's screaming continued as she watched them fly through the air. It was at that moment she noticed the music had stopped. 

She heaved her father away to move to her husband. In complete desperation, she crawled in the direction of him. Another scream came as her eyes caught sight of her husband, four different arrows struck him. Tears joined the screaming as she shakily made way to him. She could no longer hear the wails of their bannermen over her own. 

Robb rose from his knees shakily making his way towards his cowering wife. Rhaenyra attempted to lift her arms from him. She felt helpless, useless. An evident need to comfort him growing as he struggled closer. His hand pressed into her bleeding belly, tears clouded his blue eyes as he no longer felt the beautiful life move within. His fingers spread as if trying to stop the blood that now stained the floor. Rhaenyra reached toward him to the arrows that ripped through his body. Her cries softened as Robb lifted her head, the chaos around them becoming a silent hum. 

"Robb," Rhaenyra whispers. 

"It's alright." The reassuring lie caused tears to fall, Robb's sadden face deepened as his cold hand pressed to her cheek. "You'll be fine." He began to stand, desperately looking to his mother. Catelyn held a knife to young Lady Frey's neck, her blue eyes red in anger. "Mother." 

Rhaenyra's hope rose at the sight of her father. He steadily walked toward her husband, tears filled her eyes at the sight of him. She pulled up, "Father, help us."

Her whisper of a voice was not heard."The Lannisters send their regards." A scream ripped her throat as her father stabbed her husband in the heart. Her screams continued as Robb fell to his knees, blood spewing from him. She looked to Catelyn, she was not standing but on the floor with a slice to the throat. 

Rhaenyra used what little spirit she had to rise to her feet, nearly falling to the floor. Her eyes remained on her husband's limp body as she made way to him. His eyes were closed as she reached him. Rhaenyra pulled Robb to her, she cradled him. "Robb," her voice croaked loudly. She brushed his curls from his face as hopelessness encased her. "Robb," desperation filled her tone as she continued to hold her husband's dead body. 

They left her that way, Lord Frey finding amusement in watching the Queen in the North slowly die while holding her husband. He remained in his high seat, watching as she silently cried. He left after hearing of Edmure's imprisonment finding the sight of blood finally losing its luster. 

As he slowly trecked to his rooms he stood in the midst of the blood and corpses, "You will get over it, at least you don't have to clean all this blood and shit off your floors." Lord Frey laughed as he began to shuffle. "You are young enough to marry again! Be grateful." 

Rhaenyra's grip tightened on her husband's corpse. "You will pay," she whispered. 

"Pardon?"

"You will pay!" She screamed, her eyes shifting from a pure sadness to permanent darkness. "I will make sure each of your houses burns for this. All of you will pay. I may not believe in the New Gods but I am certain of the seven hells, for there is a place for each of you in it. You will all suffer my wrath, with fire and blood I will take my vengeance on you. Your houses will come to an end, your names will be forgotten. All for this. Valar Morghulis!" 

Lord Frey smirked as he watched her, "Yes, All Men Must Die, but that little king of yours was a wolf. And look at him." Rhaenyra clenched her teeth as he walked away, wanting nothing more than to stab him where he stood. 

She continued to sit in the grand hall, out of shock or sadness she did not know. They left her alone until Frey men came in. She did not bother to listen to their words, Rhaenyra simply focused on her husband. The men then used force, separating her from Robb. She kicked, grabbing onto whatever table or chair she could to stay in the room. She began to scream as they dragged him from her sight. "What are you doing? NO!" Rhaenyra bit the man holding her, running back to Robb. "No!" 

"Piss off!" She was struck with an edged object so hard her cheek sliced. Her head pushed to the side on impact. He hit her with her husband's crown. She looked to the floor seeing one of the spikes had fallen, she quickly reached for it. The man who struck her laughed, stepping on it before she reached it. "No keepsakes." He moved to pick up the Northern crown, placing it on his filthy head. He smiled at her obvious anger and moved to lift her discarded crown. "Do you think Walder will fancy these?"

Rhaenyra was lifted once more, a numbing feeling enveloping her as she was carried away. She was taken upstairs to the outside balcony of the Twins. She cringed as the Frey man tightened a scratchy rope around her wrist. She caught sight of an orange hue that surrounded the keep's sky. She closed her eyes, not wanting to look toward the burning camp bellow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fin


End file.
